Breaking Providence (Original Fantasy)

“ANNOUNCING THE DESTINED HERO AND HIS PARTY!”
 
Marcus winces as he steps into the banquet being held in his honor, the man at the door barely giving him time to get his bearings before damn near shouting his ear off. Angelina and Erised are just behind him to his right and his left. Meanwhile, his announced presence draws the attention of everyone in the massive, ornate banquet hall for a moment. All eyes are suddenly on him, and he suddenly feels incredibly self-conscious about it. He can only hope he’s not going to make a fool of himself.
 
Luckily, no one seems to expect him to speak at the moment at least. As he steps off to the side, many go back to their previous conversations. However, just as many are eyeing him hungrily, watching him like the predators they are. Marcus has come a long way since he was last in the Capital. Back then, he was just an orphan boy, still struggling to come to terms with his new power. Now… now he was a whole lot more. He’s even come far enough that he can even recognize the looks on their faces.
 
He can tell that each of them wants to approach him for their own purposes, but none of them are willing to be the first to do so. None want to come across as too greedy or self-interested. And none of them want to be the first to leave his mind either, as is likely to be the case if they’re the first to speak with him followed by a dozen others cut from the same cloth.
 
… The Capital. Ugh, Marcus is beginning to feel like this place is a place where he’s never going to be able to get his bearings. One would imagine that after over two months in the wilderness, after fighting a damn war on their behalf, he would be able to stand tall with his head held high. And to be fair, at the moment he was currently doing so without issue. However, that was only outwardly.
 
Internally, Marcus was still reeling from earlier events. He’d fucked the Pope. Sure, Serafina had initiated everything. Sure, she’d all but provoked him to do it. But still, Marcus had been the one to push her down on her desk and impale her upon his big fat green cock. She’d loved it, at least that much he could be sure of. But at the same time, it still felt like he’d crossed a line.
 
On top of that, he was still not sure what he was supposed to do regarding Roka-Ra. Knowing that her execution was later that night, he found himself conflicted on whether he should just… let her die or not. Part of him felt like it shouldn’t have even been up for debate. Roka-Ra was a monster, right? Her actions had led to the deaths of hundreds. And yet, at the same time, she was the closest thing Marcus had to kin in this world. She’d known his mother.
 
That wasn’t reason enough for a stay of execution, but there was another thing. Marcus’ conflicted Job Status. As the Destined Hero, he should want the Dark General dead, right? But as the Dark Lord… he might need her, some day. Perhaps with his influence, he could get the Church to grant Roka-Ra mercy. To get them to hold off on this ‘Divine Justice’, whatever it was. But if he wanted to do so, he needed to do it soon. Which meant making a decision.
 
“ANNOUNCING HER ROYAL HIGHNESS, ELSENTHIA SERADINA LELIANA, CROWN PRINCESS OF THE HOLY EMPIRE!”
 
Marcus startles, even as a fresh ripple goes through the banquet hall. Everyone’s eyes once more turn towards the large entrance, this time focused on someone other than him, thankfully. Except, not for long. Marcus barely has time to register Elsenthia in her absolutely gorgeous gown, with a tiara atop her head and her hair done up in a new style from what he’d previously seen her wear. Suddenly, the Princess is at his side, the tips of her pointed ears going a bit red as she smiles at him.
 
“You look like you could use a date for the evening, Sir Hero.”
 
She glances pointedly at his arm, and Marcus blinks for a moment before offering it to her. The Princess, who he has to admit cleans up REALLY nicely, wastes no time in draping herself over his arm… despite the fact that he’s still in his armor. There had been no time for him to go shopping for a different set of clothes, but apparently it was fine. People weren’t expecting Marcus the Half-Orc Orphan to show up in fine garments. They were expecting their Destined Hero in all of his armored glory.
 
The only thing he was currently missing was his halberd, in fact. He’d had to leave it with Chief Blacksmith Karn, who had told him he would have the haft of his weapon repaired before the banquet was over but not before it started, leaving him without it. Marcus had expected Karn to be angry when he went to the Foundries to present his damaged halberd to the Chief Blacksmith. But the burly man had simply listened quietly as Marcus had explained what had happened, before nodding in understanding.
 
Apparently, it wasn’t all that surprising. In fact, the Chief Blacksmith had even told Marcus that a martially focused Dark General like Roka-Ra damaging his weapon was to be expected. Karn had gotten a look at General Roka-Ra’s so-called sword and derisively declared it little more than a slab of special metal who’s use was more akin to a bludgeon than a bladed weapon. Something for a barbaric creature like Roka-Ra to swing around as she liked, but not something for a true warrior to lower themselves to using.
 
This was all to say, Marcus was clad in his glowing, gleaming armor like always, with only his shortsword at his side. Without his halberd, he felt a little naked despite otherwise having his full gear. But it would have probably gotten in the way of things anyways. At least his sword was sheathed.
 
Still, as Elsenthia drapes herself over his arm, Marcus glances at Angelina and Erised for a moment, feeling a little guilty over how the Princess was trying to usurp what could have been one of their spots. However, Angelina just gives him a broad smile and an encouraging nod, while Erised… Erised doesn’t meet his eye. She keeps her gaze focused solely on the ground, and Marcus can’t help feeling like that’s only appropriate, all things considered.
 
He still didn’t know what the fuck he was going to do with her. Serafina’s words, that the only acceptable punishment for such actions was death, ring through his head. But… ultimately they ring false. He doesn’t want Erised dead. He doesn’t want to lose her. One thing was for sure though, he also didn’t want to deal with her right now.
 
“Angelina, Eris… stay out of trouble, okay?”
 
His ever faithful Holy Priestess is quick to pull Erised into her chest, all but smothering the smaller woman currently wearing her Beastkin disguise.
 
“Of course, Sir Hero! You don’t have to worry about us!”
 
Marcus certainly hoped so, because if he was being honest with himself… the Princess was the one bright spot he’d had in the past several days. He knew it was probably smart to spend the banquet by her side, but more than just politically advantageous… he WANTED to. As his party members move off to hopefully do as he said and stay out of trouble, Marcus looks to Elsenthia and gives her a smile.
 
“Shall we, Princess?”
 
The tips of Elsenthia’s ears grow a little redder as those watching them titter and murmur amongst themselves. Somehow, Marcus just knows that they’re the center of attention right now. All of the nobles in attendance are chomping at the bit to get a piece of them. But then, he’s the Destined Hero and she’s the Princess. It’s no surprise that they all want in on the action, just as it’s no surprise that no one has worked up the courage to approach them yet.
 
Gathering herself, Elsenthia graces Marcus with a smile of her own, before nodding regally and raising her voice slightly.
 
“We shall. Come, Sir Hero. I shall introduce you to everyone.”
 
Marcus, to his own astonishment, actually recognizes what she’s doing after a beat. Looking around, he watches as several nobles within earshot immediately relax. Some are relieved, while others are disgruntled. In a single easily overheard sentence, Elsenthia has made it clear how this is going to go. She’s going to be the one to approach everyone, rather than the other way around. If any of them approach instead, they’re not only insulting the Princess of the entire Holy Empire, but they’re also insulting the others by making it clear they think they’re better than everyone else.
 
It's incredibly clever on her part, and Marcus has no problem following Elsenthia’s lead as she guides him forward into the banquet. He’s never been much for politics, but it becomes readily apparent that the Princess is made for this sort of thing. Not that that should be all that surprising, considering she was practically raised in this life.
 
By comparison, Marcus was a nobody before his Awakening. Less than a nobody, he was one step short of being reviled as a monster by everyone. Ah, but that way lay thinking about Roka-Ra. He tries not to do that too much, even as Elsenthia introduces him to the first group of people. He also tries to focus on what she’s saying at least enough to learn their names and commit their faces to memory.
 
… He quickly fails. Oh sure, in the moment he’s able to parrot their names back after Elsenthia tells him who they are. He’s capable of offering them a smile and a nod, a handshake here and there, and even of engaging in some small talk for a few moments before the Princess moves him on. But almost immediately after that, Marcus loses the information. In one ear and out the other.
 
It’s not his fault. Really. There’s just… too much going on. He’s not cut out for learning this many names in such a short amount of time. He needs a book filled with their pictures and their names that he can consult again and again until he memorizes it. Unfortunately, such a tome does not appear to be likely to show up any time soon. Every conversation feels much the same to him. Every introduction starts to bleed together.
 
Until…
 
“Ah! Princess! Mm, and this must be the Destined Hero… my, what a pair you two make.”
 
Marcus jolts before managing to control his reaction. It’s startling though, because for the first time that night, a nobleman has had the audacity to approach them rather than waiting for Elsenthia to approach him. As a result, the interaction will likely stick in Marcus’ mind. Not just because of that, but because of how it goes.
 
“Duke Barnham. A pleasure, as always.”

The strained tone Elsenthia’s voice takes on makes it clear that it’s not as much of a pleasure as she makes it sound like. Meanwhile, the now named Duke gives her a wide grin.
 
“Please, my dear, call me Alfred. Why, I’ve known you since you were a girl after all! Ah, it’s just a shame that my eldest can’t be here tonight. You remember Alfonse, no doubt. He’s back home, administering the Duchy. He’s certainly become quite the leader in recent years. A natural born ruler, one might say!”
 
Marcus would have to be blind not to sense how Elsenthia stiffens beside him. But then, he would have to be a complete idiot not to read between the lines of what Duke Alfred Barnham was currently saying. It was Elsenthia’s talk of marriage that had opened Marcus’ mind enough for him to realize what was going on. Put simply… the Duke wanted his son and the Princess to marry, didn’t he?
 
Unfortunately, Marcus doesn’t know what to say in this moment, and doesn’t dare speak up lest he put his foot in his mouth. In the ensuing frigid silence that follows, Duke Barnham looks between the two of them for a moment before chuckling and shaking his head in a mournful manner that doesn’t quite come across as very genuine.
 
“Your father’s passing all those years ago was one of the greatest blows to the Holy Empire’s stability in my lifetime, my dear girl. Why, recent events alone have shown us all what we really need is a King on the Throne. Your mother does her best, but this nasty business with first the bandits and then the orcs… would it have ever occurred in the first place if we had a strong King to lead us through these tumultuous times?”
 
Elsenthia stiffens even more at Marcus’ side if that’s even possible, and now Marcus almost feels like he HAS to act. But before he can do so, the Princess finally finds her voice, her tone undeniably frosty as she gives Duke Barnham a tight-lipped smile.
 
“You’re right, Alfred. A King is exactly what the Holy Empire needs. And it’s something we shall soon have, I suspect. A strong King. A battle-proven King.”
 
Marcus flushes a little as he realizes Elsenthia is talking about him. But he also can’t help smiling, especially at the way she’s turned the Duke’s own request for her to use his first name against him. The sheer disrespect dripping off of her words is… exquisite. Watching Duke Barnham’s smile falter and become decidedly fixed is just the icing on the cake as he looks at the two of them in a new light, no doubt easily able to tell what she’s talking about already.
 
“… I see. To the future then, Princess.”

With that, he lifts his glass for a moment… and retreats. Marcus watches him go, feeling almost like he should draw his shortsword and run the man through right then and there. His instincts are screaming at him that it’s only a matter of time… but no. Now is not the time nor the place. Elsenthia seems to agree, because the next thing he knows, she’s pulling him along. Not to the next people she wants to introduce him to, but away from the main banquet hall altogether.
 
-x-X-x-
 
The moment they’re alone in the alcove, Elsenthia wraps her arms around his neck and moves onto her tip toes to kiss him soundly on the lips. Marcus kisses her right back, the two of them making out quite heatedly for a few moments. Out of sight of the nobility, they relish the brief respite… or at least Marcus does. Elsenthia, apparently, has things weighing heavily on her mind because when their lip lock finally ends, her eyes are filled with conflict, her lips pulled down into an apologetic frown.
 
“I’m sorry Marcus, I should never have implied that our marriage was already set in stone. Especially not to that man. It was decidedly foolhardy of me.”
 
Marcus blinks, having not even considered that. Elsenthia had told him he would have the right to refuse to marry her just a few days ago… and then she’d all but gone and announced to Duke Barnham and anyone who was eavesdropping that Marcus was going to be King, likely sooner rather than later. So yeah, in that regard, her apology made sense. At the same time though…
 
“It’s alright. I don’t think… I don’t think I would mind being married to you all that much.”
 
Elsenthia’s eyes go wide at his confession, bulging out of her head. A moment later, the half-elven Princess returns to kissing him with all her might, with Marcus returning the favor. In that instant, Marcus’ purpose suddenly feels obvious. His mind, which had been clouded with doubts, begins to clear up. This was where he belonged. With the Princess.
 
He could ignore what his soul was telling him so long as he had Elsenthia by his side. So what if his instincts said he was the Dark Lord? As long as everyone else believed he was the Destined Hero, then that was what he would-
 
“Ehehehe… I’m tellin’ ya man… ya gotta… ya gotta come with… hic!”
 
Marcus’ thoughts are abruptly derailed as the voice of an incredibly drunk nobleman intrudes on them. Both he and Elsenthia freeze up in their shadowed alcove as a pair of finely dressed but also drunken nobles step out onto the balcony not more than a dozen feet away from them. They don’t see them, thankfully, but it’s impossible to just ignore the intruders.
 
“And I told ya… I AM comin’! Sheesh, you think I’d miss something like this? … hic! Not every day you get to… to visit Divine Justice on someone like thish orc bitch, after all!”
 
… Wait, what?
 
Marcus’ brow furrows, and he slowly pulls away from Elsenthia, suddenly focused on the conversation he’s inadvertently overhearing. Divine Justice? What were the nobles talking about?
 
“Yeah… I mean… heh, yeah… hic! Cost a shitload of money though thish time around, didn’t it?”
 
“Well… that’sh just how the Church ish. Especially when they’re feeling the pain. They gotta make coin somehow, and donationsh have apparently fallen off a cliff of late. Heard thish was the biggest turnout ever, in fact…”
 
“Ugh, don’t remind me… hic! Heard there’sh gonna be over a hundred of us thish time around. All goin’ at her… heh, there isn’t gonna be much of the cunt left when we’re through, ish there? Just hoping I get at least a couple turnsh with the bitch before she’s done, ya know?”
 
“Yeah, I know what you mean… just… just wanna get my dick wet in some orc cunt, why ish that too much to ask? Why do I gotta share her? … hic!”
 
“S’fine man… she’sh probably too much… hurp… too much woman for either one of us anyways, hehe…”
 
“… you’re probably right, yeah…”
 
The two noblemen leave the balcony a moment later, still completely unaware of Marcus and Elsenthia’s presence. Their words, however, ring in Marcus’ mind even after their departure. Divine Justice. Surely not, right? And yet… from the mouth of drunken louts, the truth was inescapable. Somehow, Marcus knew in his bones that they hadn’t been lying. After all, what reason would they have to lie to each other? Both noblemen were apparently going to take part in this… Divine Justice.
 
When Marcus looks into Elsenthia’s eyes after what feels like an eternity but can’t be more than half a minute, he finds both good and bad there. On the one hand, he can tell immediately that the Princess is as horrified as he is. She didn’t know anything about what the Church’s so-called ‘Divine Justice’ truly was. That was the good. On the other hand, it’s obvious that she came to the same conclusion as he did from the noblemen’s words.
 
Elsenthia, with all her knowledge of both the Church and the Nobility that Marcus couldn’t hope to come close to, had come to the same exact conclusion as he had. That was bad. He wanted nothing more than to be wrong. But looking into Elsenthia’s eyes… he knew he was right.
 
They don’t say a word to each other, even as they both move in opposite directions at the same time. Marcus doesn’t know where Elsenthia is going. All he knows is what he has to do next. What his heart is telling him MUST be done.

-x-X-x-

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