The Curse of Thir

The passage way leading to the cellar smelt of rank rotten meat and it latched to the back of Bonifacios throat and made him gag.

He was disgusted by his men and his compound yet he was refused at every turn, by his superiors, to improve his and their lifestyle. He was sick of it, sick and tired of waiting to regain his titles as The Good Fate of Bloodlust, or, his favourite, The Blood Well of Dreag. Those were good times, good battles and great food. He smiled at the thought of fresh raw meat ripping off the bones and folding so neatly in his mouth. Oh and the screams, they made the meat. He licked his lips. Perhaps when this meeting was over he could get a small snack.

His boots echoed in the stale air of the passage way, the torch he carried barely lit the infinite darkness in front of him but it managed to catch the metal hinges of the door.

It remained clean in the gloom and that frightened him ever so slightly. He took the key from the pouch around his neck and unlocked the door. His breath lost itself for a millisecond as he felt the chill from the cellar, Lord Nico was already present. He opened the door quietly and slowly stepped inside.

“You are late Bonifacio.” The voice whispered of icy winters and the chill that ate at your bones.

“I’m truly sorry my Lord.” He bowed his head in apology, though he knew he was exactly on time.

“Do not waste my time on your insincere apologies. We have matters to discuss.”

Boni looked up to view the owner of the voice as he did every month for the past twenty two years. “Yes my Lord.”

“Have you received the messages from Maglices’ compound?”

“Yes my Lord I have. I was confused at first. His request seemed odd. But I understand now tha’ many of the Generals have received the same message. How long has he been dead?”

“We believe that he has been dead for five years now. King Lionel believes we are not aware of his plans. But, we are and as you know, far stronger than his spies report.”

Boni allowed himself to smile. Perhaps his time was soon to come.

“My Lord may I ask if we are to act soon? Our plans are seemingly runnin’ smoothly, we ’ave many men ready for battle and I-“

“Our plans? These plans are not yours. You are a mere pawn! These plans were set in motion before you were a twinkle in you fathers Dreag forsaken eye, Boni!” The voice spat his shortened name with venom. Bonifacio swallowed hard and bit his tongue. He did not care for politics, all he cared for was the battle. He would be relieved when all ‘their’ plans had burnt themselves out.

“Your actions will be dictated by us, the Hierarchy. Remember that. Remember your place Dreag.” Bonifacio cared not for insults, he was a fighter and a leader of war. He would outshine the Hierarchy in battle, insults were for the table, a blade was for battle.

“Forgive my forwardness my Lord. I am jus’ excited, tha’s all.” Caution had always been the best approach when talking to Lord Nico. Carelessness had led many generals to an untimely and gruesome death, for the Hierarchy were powerful and had many souls willing to throw down their lives. Magic and politics were brandished by these immortal demons and their power reached far beyond their prison, their influence on the Dreagnance reached further still. They were the forefathers of the blood line and the first to rule the lands before mankind had learnt charms and spells to lock them away. The battle for supremacy had spanned across the millennia; a great time when creatures of all species had been abundant and the Hierarchy ruled pitilessly with their faithful Dreag. Then man became stronger and more knowledgeable in the art of magic and science and fought to free themselves from the oppression they had been forced into.

But instead of just fighting the Dreagnance and Hierarchy, they waged war on all the creatures of the land. Using their science, as well as magic, they annihilated many except the Dreag.

Every creature they could not destroy they banished to a Null world; those that managed to escape were hunted and kept as pets. The Dreag fought for the right to rule again without the help of Hierarchy. But both sides were weary and beaten so an unstable truce was instituted. The Humans claimed most of the land and the Dreag were allowed to roam freely as long as they never attacked towns or villages. Each side was untrusting of the other of course, so spies were sent by Humans and Dreag, while they each built up enough power to once again wage war.

There was one thing the humans did not know for certain. The Dreag were once again in contact with the Hierarchy and with their power guiding them, humanity was sure to fall once more.

“Save your excitement for when it is required. I have sent you three bottles of the elixir again; we need more humans to infiltrate the surrounding courts in your domain.”

“Yes my Lord. Is it at all possible ta use tha’ elixir on tha’ humans ta work more willingly for us here at tha compound?”

“What?”

“The humans here, we can’t really prevent them from runnin’ and seekin’ asylum. Its’ a tad annoying my Lord.”

“Annoying... Do you honestly believe I could be bothered about runaways? This elixir takes thirty one days to prepare and brew and only one can be made at a time. So do you really think I would waste it on you and your little runaways? Sort your own trivial problems Bonifacio. You know where to collect it. I take my leave now, your “problems” and attitude are truly nerve wrecking.”

The cold snapping noise hurt Bonis’ ears as Lord Nicos’ image disintegrated from the large sheet of cold glass.

He inhaled deeply and left the chilly barren cellar, slamming the heavy door shut behind him.