Dancing In The Void

Her glinting yellow eyes stared unwavering and unblinking at the Queen.

The sun rose over the dunes every morning, and fell over the horizon every night, and she would always follow behind her queen. Silent as a tomb, an unmoving behemoth sworn to obey and protect the royal bloodline. Cassandra was her name, and few people knew as much. Most avoided her presence, distancing themselves from the terrifying, otherworldly beast of war that she was. From the waist up, she in large part mimicked the appearance of a normal woman, however she was anything but.

A thin, skeletal woman with long arms and bony hands. Her fingers were thin as twigs and ended in massive claws like razor-sharp hooks. Black straps that seemed to absorb all light covered her skin, like the bindings of mummies. Lines of gold and silver decorated them, giving the impression of armor, though without need of it. Cassandra’s skin was unpierceable to any blade anyone had ever wielded against her.

Her head was heavy with three long black horns. Two sprouted from the sides of her head, twisting back out and upwards before curving towards the third, a sharp, straight skewer that slicked back over her skull. Those horns invoked power, primal and older than the rock and stone that had built this kingdom and all its cities. The same power that was all too visible and apparent within Cassandra’s lower body. A long scaled caparace like a writhing scorpion, adorned by six segmented spikes on either side. These legs that carried her, piercing the ground with each impossibly sharp step, were lined with a golden glow, an almost-metallic coating.

That same golden glow was matched by the sight of her mesmerizing eyes. Three of them she had, two in their rightful place and one split open vertically on her forehead. Golden reptilian eyes on dark black sclerae, they never blinked. They were eternally gazing, watching dutifully over those under her protection. A silent guardian that was beyond chatting or companionship. Whenever some bolder soul dared speak to her, she rarely bothered responding, and her speech was short, simplistic phrases.

Such moments were rare, as few seemed interested in knowing where she came from, or what she was. Even fewer were aware of the tragic fact that Cassandra was the last of her kind. The bodyguard of the royal bloodline since the founding of the Kingdom of the Desert Moon by Askelath the Lion. He had saved her life by chance, and she returned the favor by pledging herself to him and in his death, to his descendants. With time, the might and grace of the Lion became a distant memory, replaced by cruel men and egotistical rulers, her importance and stature diminished in their eyes. She became nothing but a monster in their eyes, an executioner of their enemies, a beast meant to spill blood like an ox meant to pull a cart, nothing more.

They treated her like a lesser being, but Cassandra did not complain. Her duty, her sole purpose in life was to obey, and nothing would change that. But as fate would have it, things changed. Now, countless years and descendants later, she was in the custody of one named Camael Fladium. Camael was different from all the kings and queens that Cassandra had outlived, in many more ways than one. The most important of which was her undying compassion and kindness. Camael was a truly gentle soul that had always treated her like a person, a friend, rather than the monster she feared she had become. It had been many millennia since Cassandra felt such devotion and love for the royalty that she served.

And now, her Queen had changed as well. Her golden eyes could see things with greater clarity than the mere humans around her. They held deeper, greater understanding. The sparkle of love was all too apparent in her Queen’s eyes. She knew the truth that all her generals and visiers did not. She knew who she visited when she snuck out of the castle in the dead of night, and she knew what was happening to her body beneath the many silks and robes she wore. All the other councilors and lords of the court were blind as rats, but she knew, yet her voice was always silent, and her eyes observant.

Of course, Cassandra always protected her, following in her shadow every night and every day. Even with her massive size, Cassandra was adept at hiding in plain sight. She made sure no danger befell her queen, no matter where she went or who she’d meet. Cassandra’s ears perked up, and she stood to attention as she heard the heavy and delicate footsteps of her Queen approach.

“Gods, what a tiring day.” Camael huffed as she entered her bedchamber. She immediately threw her crown on the circular marble pedestal in the center of the room and gave Cassandra a command. “Hello Cass, could you please get me my bath ready?” She asked softly, letting go of her clothes on her massive bed. A short green and gold dress that previously covered her long elegant legs and a brown leather vest with silver strokes from her upper body, a graceful set up for the queen, yet more exotic than usual.

“Yes.” Cassandra said in her usual blunt demeanor, with a short bow. Her voice was somber, a whisper-like gale of wind that stung emotionless and cold. Not out of any ill intent, but merely because of its incapability of expressing an ounce of warmth or joy. Her voice was stone, like the very walls that surrounded them.

Camael then walked into her gigantic wardrobe, a whole separate room filled with dresses and garments. There were many sections for jewelry, footwear, and even one for different types of hats collected from many distant lands. She simply picked out a blueish coat and a short white skirt, along with a pair of thick-heeled shoes, sparkling red with a silver jewel on the tip. Cassandra meanwhile put down her tome and stood up from her large lounge, skittering away to her duty. Her monstrous, hulking form only made a small rapid tik, tik, tik noise as she walked away. Despite the incredible force and sharpness of her insect-like legs, she could walk without damage as her legs touched the marble floor of the palace.

A golden castle carved into a mountain, truly a marvelous thing. The palace had four giant towers on the outer rim, each with a beacon that illuminated the city at night, making it seem like a holy hand holding up the world. But even this beacon of hope held a dark spot, a path in the mountain, hidden from sight. Cassandra paused every time she walked past the golden doors that led to that corridor of damned souls. The scales on her lower body shivered every time. On the opposite end of the hallway stood a dark round chamber where no light could not touch. Every flame was snuffed out by a malevolent force, every torch drowned by the darkness, and even the rays of the sun and moon seemed to avoid that place when they peeked through the crevices of the palace.

Cassandra knew of the massive doorway made of black iron that stood across, parallel to the entrance. She knew the nightmares that lurked beyond, how they whispered and clawed at the door eager to step into this world. They howled, full of hunger. Fear was not a sensation she ever felt, but the thought of stepping beyond that door was the most dreadful sentiment she could imagine. She shook her head and continued. It was forbidden to walk inside that room, and across her thousands of years of servitude, no one dared venture beyond the black door.

“Ready.” She said when she got back. Cassandra then pointed the way onward with her long skeletal fingers.

“Thank you.” Camael answered with a smile. She began walking yet stopped immediately for a moment and put a hand on her stomach in pain. Cassandra flared her upper lip and rushed to help her queen like a shadow. “Argh… thank you.” Camael said as she took her hand. The two of them walked slowly out of the Queen’s dormitory and down the long empty hallways. “You’re… so gentle with me Cass.” Camael said.

“You, Queen…” Cassandra said plainly. “I protect you and… them.” She added, pointing a claw at the Queen’s stomach.

Camael smiled. “Is that your way of being thoughtful over my child? How nice of you… I hope they like you, like I do!”

“Thank you…”

“You must have seen so many children being born in these walls, haven’t you Cass?” Camael asked.

“Many… yes. The old Queen… however… long time…” Cassandra said, with the slightest inkling of sadness in her voice.

“Ah… my mother… yes.” Camael nodded in understanding.

The day a child is born should always be a day of celebration, or so Cassandra had learned. Many times, a son or daughter of noble blood would come screaming and crying into the world, and happiness and joy filled the stone halls of the castle for months, years. But even so, sometimes the gods were cruel. The Spectre of Death was always close to the bountiful Giver of Life, and sometimes their due was taken early. Not all children survived their first year, not all children survived their second or third.

Time and time again, whether by plague, or war, or simple misfortune, Cassandra was made to bury those she was meant to protect, and the wails of despair and misery filled the halls. Thus was the case with the previous monarchs. The old King and Queen had been cursed with the blight of barrenhood. All their children died within days of birth, and all the soothsayers, alchemists, magicians and priests of the world could not save them. The King’s love was too strong to seek another Queen, one perhaps more fit to bear, as previous ones had done in the past.

The years passed by and despair gripped them. Cassandra watched as age began to take them, gray hairs and sagging skin, and the throne of succession remained empty. Until one night, when she was resting beside the banks of the great river, Cassandra saw a bright light in the distance. It was as if the moonlight itself fell down upon the world, touching it with delicate grace. She walked into the river as the light faded, and soon found a miracle hidden between the reeds. A child in a basket of pale white straw. Cassandra remembered looking up, and seeing only a figure walking away in the distance. An angelic being, a messenger, a guardian of this child, whoever they were, they were silent. Cassandra accepted their gift and so did the King and Queen. A merciful divine gift, a child seemingly born of the moon itself. That was when Cassandra first met Camael.

“Aaaahhhh.” Camael moaned as the hot water soaked her skin. The two of them had finally reached the royal bathhouse. There, Camael had undressed and descended into the queen’s tub. A large pool, stretching to fill out most of this queensley balcony. Cassandra had filled it with steaming water, naturally kept warm by the fires that roared beneath the stone. It was situated on a small terrace, offering a stunning view of the night sky and its bright stars. The desert wind blew coolly in the night offering a lavish touch to the bare skin.

“Shall I… offer, Queen?” Cassandra asked.

“No thank you Cass, you may rest.” Camael told her.

Cassandra nodded her head, and sat on the nearby lounge. Her body being as it was, she needed the largest hassocks the royal treasury could afford, and these golden seats were scattered in rooms across the palace for her to sit upon if need be. She was not too dissimilar to a cat, as Camael often liked to tease her. She closed her eyes and listened to the sounds of her Queen bathing, while the busy city below twinkled with the life of night.

But there was another sound, a small quiet one, discordant from the typical harmony of the night. When she opened her eyes she was greeted by the crescent moon above, and the queen smiling at her. She was unaware of the unexpected visitor climbing the rails of the castle. Cassandra sprung from her seat, her footsteps like rain on stone as she climbed over the wall, with her insect legs finding no difficulty in walking on a vertical surface like a normal one.

“Cass?” Camael lowered her head and asked worriedly, but no answer came. Instead, Cassandra’s three eyes locked on with that of an unexpected visitor clinging to a simple frayed rope on the rock of the mountain wall.

“Evening, C-Cassandra.” He said with a tremble in his voice while holding onto his hook and rope for dear life.

“You.” Cassandra’s voice fell like a saber. “Death!” She yelled.

“No, no! No death, please no death.” The man said, shaking his head vigorously. “The Queen would be very upset.”

Was that a smirk that crawled on Cassandra's lips? It was gone like a face in the clouds, before anyone could see. She reached down, grabbing the man in one swoop with her massive claws, gently, but without great care to his well being. She climbed back over the railing, holding his puny form in the air before dropping him on the floor with a thud.

“O-ouch…” He groaned.

“M-Mephy?” The queen said with a stunned, dumbfounded look about her.

“Evening Sunshine. Yeah, In the flesh.” Mephistopheles chuckled. “Well, maybe several fleshes now.”

“What are you doing here? How-how did you… you scaled the castle?” Camael said, her voice high in disbelief.

“That I did.” He answered.

“Why?”

“I knew you couldn't come tonight so I decided to come to you.”

“Did anyone see you?”

“If they did you’d probably have heard a lot of screaming and heard the thud of a body stuck full of arrows so no.” He laughed. “W-well, until I got close and your… friend heard me.” Mephisto said, turning back at Cassandra.

She growled at him, but her Queen being relaxed put her at ease.

“Easy Cass, he’s no threat… as I’m sure you already know. Stop scaring him! And you, you’re mad.” Camael said.

“That’s why you love me. How’s it going for you, still painful?”

Camael pulled her torso up out of the water and wrapped her arms around her breasts before answering. “More and more everyday. Gods Mephy I’m terrified, eventually people are going to realize, what then?”

Mephisto turned back to the looming bodyguard. “I’m guessing Cassandra already knows?“

Cassandra nodded slowly. “Long time, three months.”

“I imagined you’d know the second she returned to the Castle, huh.” Mephisto said, finally standing up from the warm stone floor. “May I approach the Queen?” He asked her.

“Ask… not me.” Cassandra’s answer came as she pointed at the woman in the water.

Camael obviously nodded her head with a sigh. “Come hither.” She said.

Mephisto slid across the wet floor with a sly smile on his lips. He knelt down on the stone behind his love and ran his hand through her hair, giving her a light massage. He looked up at Cassandra, fearful for his life with every touch of his fingers. Her deathly bloodshot stare was a terrifying sight, and every moment Mephisto felt like he was one slip away from getting his neck sliced open by one of her front pedipalps.

“Ah, Cass, she does have that unnatural aura about her, but there’s no need to be so terrified, Mephisto. You two are some of the people I trust most, so I would be more at ease if you could trust each other as well.”

Cassandra scoffed, but she quickly relented. “I will do as Queen commands.” She hissed.

Mephistopheles was quiet for a moment. “Yeah… you still creep me out. However…” He said, pausing his massage and walking up to the towering woman. “... You know the truth. You’ve known Camael longer than me, and you probably love her as much as I do. I’m no king, I’m no prince, I can charitably be called a scoundrel… but Camael is the mother of my child. If you would be willing to die for her, as I would, I see no reason why I could not offer you my full trust Cassandra… may I call you Cass?” Mephisto said, offering his open, trembling palm to the monstrous woman.

Cassandra stared at him like a statue, her yellow eyes shining at him like twinkling stars in the pitch of night. Her front spikes bent at knee-length and her body leaned forward towards Mephisto. She pulled his chin up to stare into his azure eyes and said with a deathly tone:

“You… curious being… Me-phi-sto…” She began. “I watch… many days… many nights. You… no king… but something… else? Something… greater.” Cassandra’s words fell upon him like a dark and ominous riddle. At last, she turned away. “I trust… however… You hurt...” She said, leaning her head toward Camael. “I kill…” She finished, bringing her eyes back at Mephisto, and poking him in his Adam’s apple, drawing a drop of blood on her claw.

The mercenary gave a quick nod and a grin before Cassandra leaned back, showing off her full intimidating stature, her legs and horns making her seem easily as tall as three men. “I guess that’s settled then. You won't tell anyone anything… will you?” Mephisto chuckled, trying to keep calm despite shaking.

Cassandra did not answer. She bowed her head slightly at her queen before she turned and walked away. “I leave.” She said to her queen before she skittered out of the bathing chamber, shutting the large doors behind her.

“I think she likes me.” Mephisto snickered and splashed some water on Camael. Her worried glance and warm smile was replaced by playful anger, and she immediately splashed him right back.

“Do you mind if I join you in the tub?” He said taking off his jacket.

“No, I'd love that!” Camael cooed, grabbing his head in a rush and giving him a lengthy, sloppy kiss.

Cassandra patrolled in front of the bathhouse doors, her walk sounding like thunder and rain on an abandoned stone road, an attempt at drowning out the lavishing noises going on behind her. She had her worries about her Queen alone with a mercenary, risks always were a possibility, but she had many months to make sure that the man known as Mephistopheles was not a threat. And now, as she replayed Mephisto’s speech in her mind, her worries faded. He seemed truthful, a trait Cassandra rarely saw in others.

People often hide their worst parts from those around them, but before her monstrous visage hiding it was often an impossibility. As such, Cassandra was often the first to bear upon their true selves, full of hate and selfishness, anger and deceit. But Mephisto held none such vices. He was afraid of her, a natural response, but he was not hateful. He, like Camael, seemed more than eager to view her as a normal being, not a creature of hell or worse. And, in standing up to her, Cassandra was certain he was more than capable of protecting Camael and her child.

After a while, her ears perked up once again. A pair of footsteps was rushing across the halls, soon to reach her. A soldier soon ran up to her, wearing two red armor plates on his forearms and a steel amber chestplate wrapped around his chest.

“I need to speak with the queen.” He demanded. His chainmail cloth trembled under his armor, and his forehead dripped with sweat from the spiked red casket he wore. Cassandra immediately realized this man was sent by General Samson, The Fury, as he was called. She did not budge however, she just stared at him, body still as a statue. “Now.” He said, his attempt at intimidation failing miserably before her. If anything, he only seemed to tremble and shiver harder.

Cassandra’s forehead eye blinked sideways. “No.” She said quietly, her voice hoarse and sore.

“It’s an order from the general himself, move aside, Beast.” He croaked, reaching for the grip of his scimitar.tightening the grip around his scimitar.

“You need speak. Speak.“ Her shriveled decrepit finger pointed at him, and then at herself. “Queen, will receive message.”

He gulped, squeaking in fear as he let go of his weapon and took a step back. “The general says the scouts have returned. Terrible news they bring, atrocious enough that the general requires the queen’s presence.” He turned around and walked away, at a pace fast enough to be considered running.

Cassandra tilted her head to the left, waiting and watching until she was sure the soldier was far out of sight. Then she turned back and slammed open the bathhouse doors. Camael was making out passionately with Mephistopheles in the pool when she jumped off of him in shock at the sudden intruder. Mephisto stared at Cassandra like she was the reaper come to decapitate him for his sins. She only gave him a glance, the usual dead stare she had, before turning back to Camael.

“General call, Queen.” She said, opening her mouth and revealing her fangs.

“T-the general wants me? Why?” Camael tried smiling, yet her sudden fears were all too apparent. Cassandra would never disturb her unless the news were truly alarming.

“Scouts.” She hissed.

“They returned?”

Cassandra nodded.

“What news do they bring?” Mephisto asked, jumping out of the pool and quickly dressing himself.

“Unsure. Soldier not say.” Cassandra answered, her head hanging lower, as if she was disappointed in not knowing. “But… not good.” She said quietly.

Mephisto helped Camael out of the pool, and he helped her dry and dress up. A long silky robe was waiting for her on the nearby table, prepared by Cassandra earlier. “What will you do Mephisto?” Camael asked, her voice trembling with dreadful worry.

“Climb back down I suppose.”

“No.” Cassandra said, drawing their attention. “Castle is empty, I can lead outside. No one see.”

“You’d do that? Thank you, Cass.” Mephisto said, taking a short bow as a token of his appreciation.

Cassandra growled. “Don’t… call me that.”

A quiet chuckle was heard among them. Camael quickly wrapped her arms around Mephisto, giving him another quick kiss. “Whatever comes, be ready, okay?”

“I’ll always be ready. I’ll protect you Camael, no matter what may come.” Mephisto said, pushing his forehead against hers. Once he felt ready, he turned to Cassandra. “Lead the way.” He nodded.

Cassandra yanked Mephisto by the shoulders, effortlessly tossing him on her lower back. “Grab, tight.” She said, before her numerous legs sprung to action, and she skittered away like the wind. Mephisto was shocked at her sheer speed and agility, how she almost flew down the empty hallways of the palace.

“And to think, I was worried I wouldn’t dry off in time!” He said, trying to lighten the mood.

What felt like mere moments later, Cassandra came to a halt. The two were in a small garden, with a gateway that led back to the city on the other end.

“Guards… might see.” Cassandra said with a growl.

“Its alright, you can go back.” Mephisto said. “I’ll slip by and they won’t have a clue.”

“Are… certain?”

“Don’t I look certain?” He smiled.

Cassandra shook her head.

“I… come on now. How do you think I snuck in here in the first place? Don’t worry, I’ll be fine! Go back to Camael, she needs you.”

“Very well. Goodbye.” Cassandra said as she turned to leave. But Mephisto grabbed her hand, looking up at her.

“Please… promise me you will keep them safe. If I can’t, then at least they should have you Cassandra. I know I’m not worthy of asking you this, but… please.” He pleaded.

Cassandra was silent. She could not remember the last time someone asked her to make a promise, to willingly give herself to a task, without it being expected or demanded of her. Her three eyes blinked at the mercenary, and her massive, inhuman heart thumped in her chest. “I will protect them with my life. I promise.” She said, placing her other hand on top of Mephisto’s. “Go!” She said at last before scurrying away.

Cassandra found Camael just as she walked into the grand command room. The General was already present. He was drinking from his wine cup while studying an ancient dusty map on the massive table that stood before him. He was a terrifying, hulking man whose incredible body was muscular and lean, wrapped in ornate and elegant armor so thick it doubled his already impressive size.

Cassandra was all too aware of his reputation, his rigor and stern command, and how despite being human, people feared him more than they did her. He turned to them as they entered, taking off his helmet, a battle-scarred helm designed to mimic a desert hound. His head was bald and covered in scars all over his scalp. A short stubble beard adorned his chin, the hairs a dark black shade. Cassandra always found it difficult to stare in his eyes without coming off as mannerless, as his right was missing, replaced by a glassy ivory spot surrounded by pulsating red scars. The last detail that sent dread and terror through the ranks of enemies and underlings alive was the black tattoo of a serpent that was etched upon his face. From the tip of his chin, crawling across his mouth, past his cheek and forehead and onto the bridge of his nose, the mark of the viper was all too present.

“I wonder what could've been so serious that it could not have waited for the queen to take her bath. Eh General?” Camael said as she entered the room with Cassandra following quickly behind her. All the few other officers and lieutenants bowed upon seeing the two.

“War, your grace.” The General said grimly, getting up from his chair and walking in front of her, taking a deep, respectful bow. “My Queen Camael. Lady Cassandra. My apologies for this sudden and aweless intrusion upon your evening. There are great matters to be discussed, and time will not abate us.”

Cassandra nodded, stiff as a sculpture and Camael bowed back. She smiled, despite the worrying news, a sign of utmost respect and a token of friendship from the Queen. “General Samson, it is good to see you. Leave us.” She ordered all the other men in the room, until it was just the three of them left.

“Will your bodyguard not depart?” Samson asked.

“No, she will hear what I will.” Camael said, pulling her robe to the side and sitting on the empty throne opposite the General.

“Very well.”

“War, you say?” Camael asked.

“War. And from our closest ally too. The Lord of the Western Parapet slowly conquered the southern, and eastern regions, leaving us encircled and secluded, with only the mountains in the north to stare at.” He took a big gulp of wine from his chalice upon finishing.

“How were the eastern and southern regions conquered so easily?! Did he do it in one night?” Camael cried out in disbelief.

“No, it wasn’t even a conquest, it would seem all of our Lord Regents have joined his cause on a whim. I’m… unsure how he managed to convince everyone with such speed, but we have been caught completely unaware.” The General’s voice trembled with the anger of ineptitude, how could he have been so blind it seemed to ask.

“All our vassals... have betrayed us?” Camael’s cry rang out with heartbreak and fear.

“So it would seem.” Samson said quietly.

“Lord Yazid? Commander Mesta?” The Queen pleaded.

“Both declared for this so-called ‘Holy Man’ conqueror. Lords Dama, Kiramus and Sa-Ruduk also pledged their allegiance.”

“Lady Nerfertius?”

“She was much more cruel. She sent back our head messenger… without his head.” Samson said, his voice falling like a dire omen.

Camael slumped in her seat. “W-why… she was my mother’s… god-daughter… We were practically sisters.”

“The time for friendship and old bonds has passed, your Grace. We need to brace ourselves for this coming war. You still have many allies we can call upon, give the command, and all the fine men waiting outside this room will summon all the armies they can muster and support you in this war. We need to start stocking provisions and evacuating the smaller outer villages.”

Camael nodded and sneaked a glance at Cassandra who just stared onward with her dead look. If the monstrous woman was worried about this terrible news, she did not show it anywhere on her face. “How much time do we have left?” Camael asked.

“Based on the reports we have, the time it would take to muster all armies of the land, draw provision lines and the march, about five months give or take a few weeks.”

“And how long would our city be able to endure a siege?”

“Depending on the size of the army… a year. Maybe two if we can secure smuggling paths through the mountain.” Samson said, trying to sound optimistic but the veins that bulged in his forehead seemed to tell a different story.

Camael rested her head on her palms and closed her eyes. Her purplish hair undulated gently in the breeze of the night. “No time… Not nearly enough time.. Alright, We must prepare for war, however we can.”

The General nodded. In a flash, he grabbed a feather and a piece of paper and began writing letters of war. Cassandra watched carefully. The General was a terrifying man, but Cassandra had often only met him in moments of peace and levity. He was a proud general, with a respectable yet jolly demeanor that seemed all but faded, hidden beneath this worried, dreadful gaze. Once he finished writing, sensing that there was more to be said, Camael got up and sat on the chair closer next to him. Cassandra skittered quickly behind her, eyes fixed on the General and claws propped at the ready behind her back.

“There’s something else you must tell me, isn’t there?” Camael began.

“This Lord of the West. The one leading this incursion, rebellion, they call him The Holy Man as I said. Yet… some of the reports from our scouts say he leads an army of demons.”

Cassandra felt a chill pass through her horns and down her back. Her three eyes darted at Camael, but whatever her reaction was, she couldn’t have known. The only truth was a drip of sweat creasing a line on her back.

“I’ve never known you for a religious person, nor for a person afraid of myths.” Camael pulled back.

“These are men I trust your Grace.” The General said, slightly angered. “Same as you trust the Lady behind you. I would not come to you with foolish tales. If there are beings like her in this world, then it stands to reason there are others out there, no?”

Cassandra growled. “I… am alone. Ten thousand years. Last one.”

“That may be so, but my point is… if inhuman creatures like you exist, what leap is it to imagine demons of hell to exist as well? The ancient legends and myths may hold a kernel of truth to them, we cannot assume anything in the face of apocalypse.” The General sighed. “Some of my spies have said dreadful things about this man. There are these… knights that walk alongside him… advising him. These… strange rituals he inflicted upon his armies and soldiers. There is evidence to say even Nerfetius was subjected to something like it.”

“Do you think that is why she betrayed us?”

“Perhaps, but that is merely speculation. More investigation is necessary. We need information, and we need to prepare.” Samson said, defiant and determined.

Camael grabbed him by the arm, giving him a gentle, friendly rub. “Go, Samson. You have my full blessing, whatever you need, the crown will provide. You are what stands between this city and total annihilation.”

“Yes…” He said, standing up from his seat and walking around the table. Samson’s white eye seemed to stare into her soul as he continued. “My apologies for bearing such awful news upon you my Queen. But know that we will endure this. This Holy Man will break upon our walls like a child in the jaws of a lion. Now, I shall depart, there are many matters I must attend to now. Whatever death may come.” The old general took a bow before he made his way out of the room. Camael watched him leave, and once he was gone she reached for his unfinished cup of wine. Her hand was trembling, shivering with fear. She took a meager sip, then tried to place it back on the table, but the cup slipped off the edge. Wine spread like blood on the floor beneath her feet. Cassandra immediately moved to clean it, but Camael snapped.

“Leave it…” Her voice broke, on the verge of tears. The two stood there in utter silence for what seemed like an eternity, Cassandra staring at her Queen, Camael staring into nothingness. “He’s finally come to drag me back to hell.” She finally said, smiling as pearly tears fell down her cheeks.