He received quarters in a tall tower of the Schloss Fallon. The chamber was lavish furnished with a bed a desk, for writing and a window overlooking the city's red-tiled rooftops stretching to the sentinel mountains. It was a prison. Two members of General Nicolette's guards were posted outside his door continuously. He was a safeguarded entity, an enigma, a heretic-prophet confined by palace detention.
The first visitor, the next morning, was not the Queen.
Oliver Lancelot came in with the click of the door holding a tray bearing a carafe of water and a pair of goblets. His face showed the caution of someone handling a fragile vase.
"You have certainly made waves Master Magnus " he remarked, placing the tray upon the desk. "The court is split into three parts. One third believes you are an agent dispatched to create conflict and weaken our determination. Another believes you are a fool, inspired by the divine and driven insane, by reality. The third… fears that you are correct."
Alexander was standing next to the window. ". What, about you Advisor?"
Oliver filled the cup with water his actions exact. "I am a man who works with probabilities. The chance of the Radiant Host given their increasing ranks and heavenly support prevailing in a battle against the known abyssal invasions is about forty percent. The chance of such a conflict ravaging our kingdom is absolute." He gave Alexander a goblet. "Your assertion of a ' option' holds a probability, beyond my computation. It depends on elements beyond any record: the desire of beings, beyond our understanding the bravery of a queen and the honesty of a man who claims he renounced divinity."
"It's not divinity " Alexander said, accepting the water. "It's oblivion in a pair of varieties."
"A striking and haunting contrast." Oliver drank his water slowly observing him. "Her Majesty is far from foolish. She perceives the dread in the updates from the frontiers. She notices the Radiant Host enlisting people inside our cities functioning like a state within another state. Your account provides her with leverage. A justification to refuse the Angel's requests, for soldiers and tributes. Yet it remains a leverage. It threatens to incite the Host into insurrection, inside our boundaries or even more dangerously the Angel pulling back its… vague protection completely abandoning us to the Abyss."
"The issue lies with the Angel's protection " Alexander explained. "It's like a fisherman maintaining the catch until he's prepared to cook it."
Oliver's mouth tightened. "An evocative analogy. My worry lies with the blaze, not the future stew. General Nicolette favors measures. She will advocate for a mobilization directed at both dangers. To strengthen our passes versus the beings and to drive out or control the Radiant Host cells inside our territory. A conflict, on fronts."
"And you?"
"I trust in endurance " Oliver murmured softly. "Occasionally enduring entails choosing a faction an unpleasant one to prevent being destroyed amidst them. My advice, to the Queen might still be to ally with the Host to acquire their strength and their… heavenly wisdom aiming to lessen the harshest aspects of their 'final solution' down the line."
Alexander experienced a shiver. This reflected the politics of compromise, ready to trade the future for a few additional years of current steadiness. "You'd be giving them the tool to chip away, at your world."
"Prefer an engraving, over a rapid crash " Oliver responded, his sagely eyes weary. "You talk in absolutes, man. I discuss what is feasible."
A steady knock interrupted their discussion. The door swung open to reveal General Nicolette herself. She signaled Oliver to leave with a look. The advisor gave a bow and exited, quietly shutting the door behind him.
Nicolette remained standing. She was a figure of military determination her silver hair resembling a helmet by itself. "The Queen will convene with the legate of the Radiant Host in an hour. He has insisted on your execution as a symbol of loyalty. He has presented 'proof' of corruption—a village, in the Oberalp quiet its inhabitants… hollow. Just as your friend the General depicted."
Alexander felt his gut tighten. Duncan's caution—the quiet that equates to death—was already being wielded as a tool.
"She is thinking about it " Nicolette said plainly. "Not because she thinks you are corrupted.. Because a single mind, even a captivating one is a small cost to secure the Host's ongoing, albeit reluctant allegiance and their assistance against the real terror, in that village."
"So I am destined to be a casualty " Alexander stated, the reality stark and expected.
"You are a variable " Nicolette asserted, her blue eyes sharp. "Variables are unwelcome, in my formulas. Oliver would exchange you for time. I prefer to understand your function. You encountered these entities. You mentioned a blade that severs truth. Is there a weapon, a strategy, a vulnerability? Not abstract thought.. Muscle."
At that moment he realized. Nicolette did not subscribe to stories. She upheld barriers. She would battle angels or demons if they endangered her queen's realm. She sought knowledge.
"The beings from the Abyss… the ones, such as the General… they aren't beasts meant to be pierced " he declared. "They embody beliefs made manifest. Battling them with dread or loathing nourishes them. The weaker ones, the specters succumb to determination to… clamor. To elements that're intensely unmistakably vibrant." He recalled his blade, its resonant resistance, amid the quiet struggle. "The Angel's troops… they are fragile. They depend on organization. On trust. Suspicion is toxic to them. An inquiry can serve as a tool, than a blade."
Nicolette scoffed. "I'm unable to equip my troops with inquiries."
"But you have the option to withhold the responses the Host insists on " Alexander urged quickly. "Stop your people from praying to the Angel. Encourage them to pray for their loved ones, their households. That form of hope… it's complicated. It's deeply human. It becomes a challenge, for that flawless quiet light to absorb."
She observed him quietly for a while her tactical mind analyzing his statements not as foresight. As possible psychological tactics, in battle. "You want me to engage in a conflict of ideologies."
"I'm urging you to defend your beliefs. To claim your right to possess human ones. The instant you battle using the Angel's rules—for cleanliness for quiet—you have already been defeated."
A guard knocked before stepping bowing. "General. The Queen summons you to the Council Chamber. Also… the prisoner's."
Nicolette's jaw clenched. She cast Alexander one final, scrutinizing glance. "Then proceed, variable. Let us determine the value of your truth in the arena of influence."
The Council Chamber was more compact, than the throne room adorned with maps and centered around an oval table made of dark wood. Queen Greta occupied the head of the table still regal though bearing a practical demeanor. On her right was a man dressed in white and gold—Legate Valerius of the Radiant Host. His face was attractive and timeless his eyes keen radiating a fervent sense of justice. He avoided looking at Alexander; instead his eyes remained on the Queen as though she were a redeemable symbol.
"Your Majesty " Legate Valerius spoke, his tone a tool of influence "the existence of this… heretic… is an insult. His very essence murmurs with the reverberations of the hidden depths. The disaster in Oberalp stems directly from uncertainty growing within the core of the Alps. Transparency is our defense. He represents a fracture, in that defense."
Queen Greta's face remained impassive. "He is my visitor, Legate.. He offers a viewpoint that you lack."
"A viewpoint of surrender!" Valerius's steadiness wavered. "He deserted the instruments of triumph! My operatives have verified it. The Penitent's Blade remains forsaken. The Chalice's force was. Declined. He appeared before the Blue Ring—the device of our deliverance—and abandoned it. This is no perspective; it is yielding to the chaos we combat!"
Alexander moved ahead disregarding the Legate addressing Greta. "I abandoned it because it isn't salvation. It is euthanasia. For the planet."
"Deceptions, from the abyss!" Valerius barked, at last directing his blazing eyes at Alexander. "You faced the trial. Were found deficient. The Blade revealed your flaws. You could not endure its verdict. The Ring granted you the serenity of a mission completed. You were feeble too bound to the din of human sin to embrace it. You are no prophet. You are a device and flawed instruments are cast aside."
The words were intended to hurt, to disgrace.. They sounded empty, to Alexander. He had embraced the verdict of the Blade. He had experienced the pull of the Ring. The Legate discussed them as though they were trials of power not deep heart-wrenching decisions.
"You view imperfection, as a defect to be removed " Alexander remarked, his tone steady. "I consider it the wood's grain, the element that provides resilience and uniqueness. Your 'peace' would create a featureless emptiness."
"Enough." Queen Greta's voice pierced the mounting strain. She glanced from the Legate to the steadfast apostate then to Nicolette, who stood stern and prepared by the doorway. "Legate Valerius the Scarlet Kingdom values the... Vigilance of the Radiant Host. We shall boost patrols in the Oberalp region. We will permit your kin to tend to the afflicted, overseen by our healers and General Louisa's officers."
Valerius's expression grew tense. This wasn't the union or the offering of the defector he desired. It was a sovereign concession.
"As, for Alexander Magnus " Greta went on her grey eyes fixed on him "he stays within our custody and observation. His testimony is… incorporated into our decision-making. The ultimate loyalty of the Scarlet Kingdom will be determined by what guarantees the survival and independence of our people than complying with the wishes of any outside force, celestial or otherwise."
It was a move. She hadn't declined the Host. She hadn't supported Alexander. She had claimed her power gaining time manipulating both factions to her advantage—her advantage.
Legate Valerius remained standing his glow overshadowed by wrath. "You invite catastrophe, Majesty. The shadow does not bargain. It devours. When it reaches your threshold and quiet descends recall that lucidity was extended. You opted for the haze of concession." He bowed rigidly then exited the room.
The door shut, leaving Alexander alone with the Queen, Nicolette and the looming burden of the future.
Greta exhaled slowly the facade of the fading to reveal the tired woman underneath. "Well " she addressed Alexander. "I didn't put a price on your head today. Maybe I only delayed the auctioning of my realm. What comes next defeated Messenger? How does one handle a truth burdensome for monarchs to bear?"
Alexander gazed at the maps hanging on the walls observing the boundaries of the Scarlet Kingdom etched across the unchanging skeleton of the mountains.
"You get ready " he said. "Not for their battle. For the time that follows. You construct refuges not for flesh but for thoughts. For tales. For the recollection of what the world used to be, before the carving and the quiet. You turn into the guardian of the in-between for long as you are able to sustain it."
He moved toward the window gazing out over the city at the busy breathing world. ". You wish that when the titans fight, a part of who we are… endures in the gaps."
He was no longer a Messenger. He was not a general. He was a witness, and a warning. And in the heart of the Scarlet Kingdom, the warning had found a place to resonate, however faintly, against the coming thunder.