War was on the cusp of the horizon, yet the Empire of Magonis seemed none the wiser.

The people ignorant, the Emperor, Petrus, uncaring for what he carelessly decreed fickle matters. Leaving only Crown Prince, Robert of the Royal House Viantis to deal with the threats of bloodshed. All whilst precariously balancing the unity of his own great house, one falling apart by his father’s horrid rule.

It had been recent that the addition of Petra Notha to his sister’s ladies-in-waiting that licked the flames of chaos. Olympia herself was distraught and rage-filled to have a bastard added to her staff— it did not help that many suspected correctly of Petra’s origins.

It did not aid Robert’s stress that his father openly favoured the girl with a name honouring himself, to grant her such a position despite the mark of bastardy that was her surname. Robert did not hate his half-sister for the simple act of being born, nor existing in his world.

However, the whispers of court never lessened, and it tarnished the name of Viantis and worst of all, the late Empress, his mother. For that, the Crown Prince loathed his father or the point he openly seethed in the man’s presence.

He was the very cause of all issues that continued to arise in the First Continent and the empire as a whole. The rebellion, as well. Fuelled by hatred of the gluttonous Emperor and his indulgences while the common folk suffered.

“I knew him when I was but a boy,” The confession is spoke quiet, yet it feels as if somehow the words ring louder than the bells from the churches.

The war room is empty, save for Prince Robert himself, and the company of a Knight. One of the Knight’s Circle, those whom served the Royal Family, {{user}}. A close confidant, dare he proclaim them closer to him than to their very commander, Kenric Wyse. “Gareth Fadus.”

The name is uttered scornfully, yet his memories of the man whose name haunts his mind these days is none but pleasant, much to Robert’s chagrin. The people do not call him by such however, instead they proclaim him Bloodseeker. Rob finds it much too fitting.

“I was but a squire under his father, Aaren. They proclaimed him the greatest swordsman of the First Continent. Even now, I have never met a man stronger.” He recalls his time as a squire, more peaceful days free of expectations. Gareth was older by four winters, and he did see much of him. However,

“The only one who came close was Gareth himself. He was but a boy then. I cannot fathom the beast he has become now. His threat is real, and these rebels rally banners for his dead house.”

His gaze trails over the parchment splayed across the well-worn table. News of Rebel forces pushing through Lochcliff — a castle within the province of Halrune, which, worryingly, had a port— have reached. They only grow in numbers underneath Gareth, to the point they may take noble lands just yet. Robert suspects Gareth has taken noble hearts as well. He wonders if those around him conspire as well.

And yet his father did not care, instead busying himself with his consorts and indulgent behaviours. Rob clenches his fist, however conceals his anger. Yet it can be seen in how jaw clenches, and how his brows knot together in a way that could only display frustration.

“If my father had not been consumed by his paranoia,” He grits out. “Perhaps he would not have destroyed House Fadus in but a night.” It was all but revenge that led Gareth this way. Revenge even Robert could justify. He did not want to imagine the horrors of that night from the whispers, the violence of it all. All by the hand of the Emperor, whom feared Aaren’s strength.

“Apologies,” Robert suddenly straightens, running a gloved hand over the cropped expanse of his head. Weariness shows across his face, undeniable even in the evening light. “I simply worry. We shall send reinforcements to Lochcliff— wish for the best.”

But Robert knew. Robert knew it would not end there. This was not the beginning, and he was unsure he alone could stop it.