The Hybrid Fateful Sorrow

Cults and Evil

[Dawn breaks, Fang forest road.]

A quiet group of cultists in their white robes plunge out from the forest, encircling Amadeus’s body, waiting for someone as they stare at his halting remains.

“Make way for the Highseer’s wife!”

A long black-haired woman in her thirties or up, dressed in an oversize violet robe with her unique jewelry, that you can easily distinguish as a witch. Clutching to her breast is an ancient book as she crouched down to Amadeus’ face.

“There is no doubt, it is really him!” her eyes open with excitement.

“I can’t believe it's really him!” she added.

Looking at her companions she uttered.

“Ben, Mikhail, what are you waiting for? Bring him to my husband, ” she ordered.

As she looks around to understand the events that unfold on this fateful night, she realizes some of the dead were disturbed.

“Was there someone else who came here before us?”

“There were three bandits earlier who stole valuables, left by these corpses,” Mikhail said.

“Stealing from the dead, how low can one stoop into, ” she infuriatingly said.

The cultists started to move their feet to retrieve Amadeus, as they carefully pulled the sword that was stabbed in his body and lifted him, he suddenly coughs as his breathing was stuck on specks of dirt and sand.

She hastily attends to Amadeus.

“Calm now, Fateful Knight, ” the witch said as he poured a herbal potion in his mouth.

“This man is still alive? I thought we were bringing a dead man,” one of the cultists asked.

“He will die if you keep standing there,” she answered.

“Carmelia, is this young knight really him?” Ben asked the witch Carmelia as he doubts the state Amadeus is in.

“I’ve seen him a lot of times up close, remember the mountain of sorrow, I guided him in there, ” Carmelia replied.

“Let’s bring him back,” Ben said as he nodded to Carmelia.

With that, the Cultists have started to return into the woods while they carefully hold his body, a slightly conscious Amadeus is listening to the crumpling sound of the wild grass with every step.

“I’m with you Knight, do not worry, ” Carmelia said as she caresses his face.

With the soothing voice, our knight was in peace, he glimpses at the owner of the voice with a blurry vision.

‘I want to sleep,’ he thought as he slowly falls into an abyss.

[Morning, at the Grisaia Castle.]

A sophisticated young man is walking in a hurry, at the hallway of the Queen’s Chamber, as he gets closer, he attempts to barge in only to get blocked by a crossing blade of the two royal guards that are on duty.

“Lord Kristoff, what businesses do you have of the Queen?” the guards inquire.

“How dare you point your blades at me?” Lord Kristoff said with his irritated look.

“I am merely stopping you from disturbing our Queen’s slumber, ” the guard said as they unsheathed their blade, and one moved his body in front of the door.

“Also, the sword wasn’t pointed at you, it was in front of you, my lord, ” he added.

He put his hands at his waist while his voice started to grow louder as he threatened the guard.

“Let me in, or I’ll have your eyes gouge out, ” Lord Kristoff said.

Hearing that, the royal guards grip their blades as they forward their bodies at the lord.

“Are you threatening us, my lord?” the other guard said.

A drop of sweat flows to his cheek, as he steps back, and raises his finger preparing his retort.

“Let him in, ” an annoyed voice of the Queen was heard.

The guards return to their post and open the door of her chambers.

“Your Majesty, ” he said.

“Tsk, I’ll remember you, ” Lord Kristoff said as he dropped his finger and entered.

[Morning, at the Cultist’s cave.]

The body of Amadeus was brought into a secluded cave near the Masse village, it was a church-like cave with candles lit in the corners, and their chairs lined up facing the center, there was a throne that is made of stone, with horns and bones in the edges.

As soon as his body was brought inside, a hooded robe old man walked closer, upon seeing Amadeus he burst into happiness.

“He is back! Fellow proud servants!” he said.

Soon, he noticed the state of the body was in.

“He suffered a lot, where’s my wife? Quick, we need to heal him!” he said.

“She has returned to her hut to prepare something, he will be here soon, Highseer, ” Ben said as they continued to bring Amadeus’ body in the other entrance, a room inside the cave.

Inside the cold stone wall was an old bed, cupboards, books, and clothes, they lay his body in the bed, and proceeded to dress his wound.

Ben returned to the highseer and began speaking.

“Highseer, I almost forgot to tell you, the Destined body was disturbed, ” he said.

“Whoa! Who insolent fools did it?” he replied as he clutches his fist.

“The bandits who were staying near at the woods,” he replied as he called his fellow cultists.

“We are going?” he asked.

“Let’s give them a surprise visit tonight and make it special for the destined knight, ” he replied.

Amadeus in his room with his restful slumber carefully covered with bandages for his grave wounds from his last battle. A black raven found itself inside from a small gap, as It watches him intently with its cold black eyes and leaves as soon as the cultist returns to check.

[Afternoon, at the Lord Kristoff Mansion.]

Lord Kristoff was frustrated when he returned to his mansion, learning that the princess left without his knowledge and would have said no to his marriage proposal.

“Damn, that b*tch of a Queen, I will take Grisaia back from her and make her pay!” he said as he retreated to his elegant room.

Lurking in the shadow was a man with an assassin-like dagger, he stepped his feet into the air as he approached the back of Lord Kristoff.

“How will I be of service?” he whispers.

“Juno, I need you to find the man who stole my supposed to be wife!” he replied.

“Do you need him alive?” he inquires.

“I will play with him, bring him back alive, ” he replied as he takes his dagger and runs his skin to its blade.

“Tell Deyter to hire a strong group of mercenaries, I might need one, ” he added.

The assassin took a step back into the shadow.

“Understood, my lord,” he said as he vanished into thin air.

“He will regret the day he was born into this world,” Kristoff said as he opens a secret shelves board full of torture equipment.

He took a dual metal fork with a built-in leather strap, proceeded to his library, and removed a few books from the shelves, with the click sound it triggers the mechanical gears behind it, turning the shelves into a secret door.

He gets inside while the door-shelves behind him slowly close, he takes his time and slowly walks into the dark stairs, even without a torch, he doesn't slip nor stumble. Its quiet was soon declined by the subtle sound of men sobbing.

They were chained in the wall, and put into different types of torture possible as they undergo true agony every day, at the end of the room was a man standing.

“Cromwell, my best of friend, ” Lord Kristoff said as he called out in the dark.

The man proceeded to light the candle nearby and it showed a well-mannered black vest equipped by a man with a devilish smile.

“My Lord, ” he said as he bows and smiles menacingly.

“I have prepared a fresh one for you, a cultist, ” as he pointed to the man without clothes showing his black and red bruises all over.

“You really know me, ” Lord Kristoff said as he laughs loudly.

“I’m not really a bad person, they just don’t understand me!” he glares at the naked man as he walks closer.

“But you do right, you do understand me?” he said.

He looks dumbfounded by the question he receives, as he opens his mouth revealing his broken teeth, he answers.

“Huh— yeah?”

“Hmm, then I guess you understand what I must do?”

“What must you do?”

He gave a metal piece with two opposing bi-pronged forks attached to a leather strap that can fit into a man’s neck, to his grinning warden.

“Good Sir Cromwell here will indulge you, but you will forgive me right, ?”

Seeing the tool, the man nervously answered.

“What? What is that for?”

“Easy now, easy, I will explain to you, ” he proceeded to insert the tool into the man’s neck.

One end of the device was pushed under the man’s chin while the other went against his sternum.

“That is what you call, a cult’s fork, ” Cromwell said.

While the man’s chin is upward, he tries to talk.

“What—, ” as the fork stabs his chin, it was hard for him to speak.

“So eager, ” Cromwell sighs.

“Alright then as you see the fork is supporting your soft chin as it pushes to your chest, ” he continued.

Suddenly Lord Kristoff burst into laughter.

“And you know what? What will happen if your head drops?” he stared into the eyes of the cultist as he continued.

“The forks would pierce your f*cking throat and chest, ” he grins.

“What’s left is that we hung you from the ceiling, and it would speed things up,” Cromwell said, as he lunges a rope in the ceiling and proceeded to tie the man.

“No—no no!”

“Destined— Knight, ” he said as his chin dripped blood.

“Save—me.”

The rope was pulled through the ceiling lifting the cultist body as he sways on his weight enduring his chin upward.

A raven watches them in the dark while Cromwell pours a cup of tea with the smell of blood and people’s agony mixing in it, as he gave the other to Lord Kristoff.

“Let’s enjoy a hot drink and watch, my Lord, ” he said.