In the Name of the Emperor

Now, if any of you role players out there get emotionally involved in your role plays, or with your characters, these next few chapters might be heart breaking. I actually cried. -_- I know, childish but I couldn't help it.





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Today was a sunny day and currently there were loud girly squeals and peals of mingled child and adult laughter coming from behind the doors to the throne room. Jenavive was being chased by a 'dragon demon' and was a princess in distress. Andrus was playing the knight in shining armor. When he 'saved' her, he proceeded to tickle her until she was red in the face and laughing so hard she was gasping for breath. When she was put down, Andrus started speaking to her, but her head snapped to the window. All of Jenavive's thoughts slowed down and became hazy. With half lidded eyes, she walked over to the window and stared out. In the distance there was smoke. Inside her head it was like there were many people whispering to her. Shaking her head furiously, the whispers subsided a little but they remained distant in the background. Annoying little things they were.



Having noticed Jenavive had outright ignored him, Andrus walked over and placed a hand on a small shoulder. She jumped under his grasp and looked up at him with startled eyes.



"I'm sorry King, what was it you said?"



"Are you alright Jena?"



"I am fine. Is that smoke over there?" She turned and pointed.



"Nothing can get passed you my little spit-fire." He sounded kind of distraught. It didn't take her more than a second to guess why. That plume of smoke was about three days away. It meant that the enemy was encroaching fast. He had ordered the people into the castle, along with the animals to be slaughtered and milked for food. Water was being reserved and stored in some of the empty cellar rooms, sealed tightly against leaks and taint. Jenavive reached up, still looking at the smoke and held the King's mighty hand.



"It will be okay King." Jenavive looked up at him her expression serious, full of hope and above all, belief in the man she stared at. "No one would dare invade this castle with you at it's helm. You are the biggest and strongest man the world over."



"That's right. I am." he smiled down at her.



"And you are my personal guard. No one else can or will protect me like you." He bent down and put his free hand atop her red curls.



"Of course you are right m'lady. While I draw breath, no one will harm a hair on your beautiful head." His face, was now full of the hope and seriousness Jenavive so willingly gave to him. When the doors to the throne room slammed open, both of them jumped, Andrus rising to his feet and putting Jenavive behind his large body instinctively. "Galrick? What is the meaning of entering like that?" The Grand Magus completely bypassed the King and looked at his daughter, their silver eyes meeting.



"Do you hear them child?" She swallowed and hid behind Andrus' large leg. Her father was in a foul mood. "DO YOU HEAR THEM JENAVIVE?!" his voice bellowed out around the throne room and the guards came running in to see what what happening.



"Yes father, I hear them."



"Hear what?" Andrus looked from Glarick to Jenavive with furrowed brows.



"Do not listen to them Jenavive. They whisper of evil things."



"HEAR WHAT?!" Andrus' voice was by far the loudest, it having roared. How dare Galrick enter the throne room in such a state and not answer his King?



"Voices my liege. They whisper about dark deeds, commanding us to follow their path of hate and blood lust."



"Is it only us that can hear them father?"



"And the other mages. Quickly Jenavive, go to my bed chamber and retrieve the gold pendant out of the small blue box inside my chest." She hesitated and Galrick snapped his fingers. It was almost as if someone were pulling her strings, well-yanking actually, because her body snapped into movement so quickly, it was mind boggling. One of the things she hatred most was the fact that her father could command her with naught more than a snap of his fingers. Why? She had been beaten over not listening to his orders and the snap of those fingers meant he was deathly serious. Her brothers and her mother followed the snap of those fingers like trained dogs. Funny how he'd only ever hit his children and never his wife, but she still followed like he had trained her with the rest of them.



Jenavive went down the stairs to the cellars where her family made residence and walked straight to her father's bed chamber. Usually it was warded because of their mother and father sleeping in there, and housing very powerful items behind it's metal doors, but now it was open. She could walk right in. The magical items usually adorning walls, floor and mantel were gone, having been moved--she guessed, for the defense of the castle. But the trunk was on the right side of the bed and she moved to it quickly, opening the heavy lid and fishing out the little blue box. It was masterly crafted and was something her mother was often found petting. Jenavive thought it had been her maternal grandfather's craftsmanship, but she was never sure. Her mother dodged questions about it's making like she dodged her husband. Expertly. Flipping open the top, Jenavive had a moment to inspect the amulet she had been instructed to retrieve. It was the only object inside the box but the...raw power coming from it was something she was sure only her and her father would have been able to sense. The amulet was in the shape of a double headed eagle. The closer Jenavive study the amulet, the more sure she became that the amulet was made of pure gold.



And why did this amulet resemble the King's armor and sword?



Without another thought, thinking it was just her father's way of playing a kind of prank, she slipped the amulet on and replaced the box in the trunk. it took her a second to realize that the voices had stopped. Interesting effect. Rising to her feet, she dusted off her knees, wincing when she rubbed over the scabs there and left her father's bed chamber.



It was walking through the chilled halls of the cellars that she remembered there was still a soldier from Ferresha in the healing ward. Moving her small body to a light job, she ran up a secret set of stairs that lead straight into the healing ward. How did she know this secret staircase existed? He mother shower it to her when her father had been recovering from a self-incurred explosion. The stairs led her to a curtained off section of the hall way. The curtain was actually blocking one of the windows and if someone wasn't looking, they'd fall out the window if they took an immediate right. So, she stepped left and peeked out of the curtain to see a guard posted outside the door to the healing ward. Looking int he pocket of her tunic, she found a small pebble, once of the countless she had in her bed chamber for various reason and tossed it across the hall. When the guards head snapped to the side, she ran out to stand to the side of him. When he turned around, he started at seeing her smiling face.



"Please let me in."



"I'm sorry Jena, on order of the King, by penalty of torture, no one goes in."



"But everyone knows that I am allowed to go wherever I want no matter what."



"I know but I need to hear it from the King-" the guard looked worried. Changing tactics, she smiled and put her hands around her mouth. Her voice lowered until she was whispering loud enough for the man to head.



"I will not tell anyone! It will be yours and my secret okay? I'm good at keeping secrets!" He sighed and nodded, a slight smile on his face.



"Between you and me then." She nodded and he opened the door with a crack large enough for her to squeeze through without being noticed. The door shut silently behind her and she slinked to the shadows. Using the wall as a guide, she started down the ward towards a faint light. The beds were all covered by white canopy's which could be converted into curtains to hide someone. All of the beds were empty, except one. Around the bed, where the soft glow was coming from, were the most powerful of the healers and the Medi-magus. If there was one person in the kingdom Jenavive wished would get stepped on by a horse, it was the Medi-magus. Her father and the old man hated each other wish a passion. Why? Difference of opinion. When the Medi-magus found her wandering around, he always picked on her, gave her a spanking when she stood up for herself and sent her on her way.



From the bed they stood around came horrible screaming and the sound of very sad, very pained tears. Never in all of her years had she ever wanted to reach out and comfort someone like she did in those few moments that the soldier lay in obvious hurt. Jenavive restrained herself however and stayed against the wall. Sitting down in the shadows she waited until everyone left. But she didn't anticipate how long it would take. Jenavive almost started nodding off when she heard the door close tightly. When she looked around, no one was there except her and the moaning individual on the bed.



Moving from her hiding place, Jenavive moved tentatively over to the bed, using all of the stealth she was good for. Gently, she sat on the edge of the bed. The man's eyes darted over to her.



"Who's that? Who is there? Where am I? Help me!"



"Shhh. My name is Jenavive. I'm not supposed to be here. I had wanted to ask you about what you saw, but I guess we can talk about other things." A small hand reached out to touch his chest, but Jenavive snatched it back, blowing on it lightly. The armor was hot to the touch, so hot that it felt like it had just come out of a fire.



"What do you want?"



"I told you, I want to talk with you." Voice still quiet, she spoke in soothing timbres and patted herself for keeping her mind from scattering at the look of the man. The holes that Maricce had described were terrible to look at. Through one of them, she could see the man's beating hard. It was only separated by a small wall of tissue. How the healers had kept the man alive so long was a mystery. The holes were all over him and big enough for her to fit four of her fingers through, not that she tried however. And his eyes...the whole of them was white; pupiless. Around them were black, inky veins that seemed to throb. Not able to stop herself. Jenavive reached out to touch one and again, had to retract her hand, but not because it was hot. No, the veins were so cold it was like sticking her hand in the pond after the first white rain.



Plainly put, the man looked terrible. However terrible though, Jenavive kept him talking so he wouldn't focus on what happened. She did though, studying the wounds and the veins. Jenavive asked his name, his country about his family, who made his armor. Simple questions and he answered, some times with a smile, others with moaning and painful groans. When he finally talked himself to sleep, speaking of the love he left at home, she looked around. Had that much time really passed? It was beyond dark outside, if what she could see behind the curtains could be trusted. Jenavive yawned. Well, no one else was in the room...so she lay down on the bed, snuggling right up against the soldier. Hmm...his armor wasn't hot anymore. The soldier seemed calm with her there and his body, where it had been tense in sleep, completely relaxed. Jenavive closed her eyes and fell into a deep slumber.





Only to be awoke by someone grabbing her out of the bed by her ear and dragging her to the door of the healing ward. Light shone throught he room, blinding her for a few moments. When her vision returned, Jenavive looked up to see the old Medi-Magus.



"Jenavive! What are you doing in here? What would your father and the King say if they knew you were with a man who potentially had the plague?!"



"But he doesn't have the plague!" She reached up to try and dislodge the man's grasp on her ear but he just dragged her to the door. With a hard slap on the backside, he shoved her through the door.



"You couldn't possibly know that!" And the door slammed shut in her face. In a moment of rage, she kicked the door and instantly regretted it. Grabbing her throbbing foot, she mumbled curses under her breath, glaring death itself at the door.



"Are you alright Jena?" It was the guard from the night before.



"NO! That horrible...vile...wrinkly old HORSE kicked me out!"



"You weren't supposed to be in there at any rate." She sighed and looked at the guard, still holding her injured foot. He produced a piece of candy. All ill will and hurt went out the door and her silvery eyes got impossibly wide. She made grabby hands at it until it was dropped into her possession. The moment she started sucking on the chocolaty, sugary treat, the guard patted her bottom and shooed her away. Sugar--the quickest way to get her to shut up and disappear. Her father never let her have candy and usually turned the one who gave it to her into some small, harmless creature for a short stint of time. So, in turn for her sugar, she kept their names secret and they gave it to her to shut her up and disappear.



After leaving the healing ward, she noticed that more live stock and people had been gathered and shoved into the castle. It was getting very crowded these last few days. Pushing her way through the cattle and people, she started for her own room. Something very hard hit her arm and she yelled out in pain. When her head turned to locate the guilty party, she saw Verrun. He winked at her and that was all she saw as a fat commoner blocked her view at that moment. With a frown and a grunt of some child-like curse or another, she went to her room and slammed the door shut. Thankfully, no one invaded her personal space. It was still in organized disarray.



The walls of her bed chamber were covered in complex equations and drawings which illustrated various magical side affects and potions. Around her floor were pebbles and smooth stones of various shapes, sizes and colors. During one of the lessons provided by her father, she'd asked him what each of the colors meant in magical terms and he'd explained. On that day she had started collecting stones. Some were precious gems gifted to her from the King but they all served their purpose. Her bed chamber was calm and tranquil. It was a personalized space free of her family. Her rabbit was in the corner looking at her like she had neglected it. So, Jenavive walked over and fed the poor thing before letting it out around the room. Good thing it wasn't ready to poop yet because she hated following it around to collect it's poop.



Occupying herself for the next few days wasn't hard. She studied, helped her father when he came to her using her idea of a magical reversal box. He'd obviously played with it to fit his needs and even asked her to help place the anchors around the castle in places that couldn't be found. She'd done that well. she hadn't found Verrun again but she wasn't worried. They often went a few days or night without seeing each other and she didn't think anything of it when he didn't come and find her. Playing in her bed chamber and with the King kept her out of trouble for the most part, and out from under foot.



On the fifth night of respite however, she was awoke by the sound of loud, thunderous noises, screams and even louder noises that were reminiscent of mortar hitting the castle walls. Bounding out of bed in her jammies which consisted of a black night tunic and some leggings, she raced out of her bed chamber and out into the hall. What she noticed first were the bodies of cattle and people. They looked as if they had just fallen over. There was nothing wrong with them. Their faces were not twisted in horror either...they just looked as if they had fallen asleep where they stood. Not trusting her nose, she covered the lower half of her face and ran towards the throne room. It would be the safest room in the castle.