Loyalty (A Modern Fantasy)

The World of 2032
White areas mark significant neutral territories

I
LOYALTY

"Man may only know power through Sorcery."
-Lucius Aurelius, First Emperor of the Zodiac Court

In the 2032 years since they were founded, the twelve Warlock Houses of Zodiac Court have expanded their domains from the golden shores of Vesperia to the secretive island of Nihon. In their thirst for conquest they divided the entirety of the world between them, and now that there are no new lands to dominate they plot and scheme against each other, seeking wealth, territory, and retribution for past slights. The web of Zodiac Politics grows deadlier and more complex with each passing year.

It is only a matter of time before something snaps.


--The Kingdom of Ausonia--​

You are James Hart, and you have reached what is hopefully the last day of your training. Seven years you spent a Page, and then ten more a Squire, until just yesterday you passed the final trials and ascended to your rightful place as Knight, the first amongst your peers. Now you stand at attention in a cold room, as naked as the day you were born, arms crossing at the wrists behind your waist, chest out, eyes straight ahead.

The master of your Camp stands before you, staring at the door. He is a thin, reedy man with large glasses, dressed in a designer suit, with precious metals flashing at his neck, wrists, and fingers. He fidgets with one of his many rings, gold and studded with rubies, and murmurs to himself as if you are not standing directly behind him.

His anxiety unnerves you. You have only seen your Camp's master a handful of times over the course of your life, and only ever at a distance. But each time you glimpsed him he stood with the utmost poise and confidence, surrounded by half a dozen Knights and twice as many sycophants. When he had looked out over the training yards that had been your home, he had done so like a king surveying his territory, content in the knowledge that all he saw, he owned. Now he murmurs and fidgets like a Page who has not even undergone a hunt.

You know why, of course. You can smell the presence beyond the door, a storm in human skin. You do not let the fear show in your eyes. Your training has prepared you to face even death with a stone face.

The door opens, and the storm that is a man enters the room. He is tall, with dark eyes, a shaved head, and a neatly trimmed beard. He wears a dark grey suit, perfectly fit, and shoes of supple black leather that shine in the light. Your eyes immediately find his hands. Your masters have often said that a man's face can be a mask, but hands speak only truth. His fingers are lean and taught, decorated only by a single gold wedding band. They are not the hands that grip a rifle, or till a field, but they are strong, and dexterous. They are hands that can weave all of the twenty-seven signs. They are the hands of a Warlock. His power rocks you, a stormwall of sheer presence, and you set your jaw to avoid cowering. Your Camp's master is not so stoic – his hands shake like an old man's, and he drops immediately to one knee.

You mimic the motion, eyes cast down at your feet, knuckles of your right hand pressed lightly to the ground. For a few long moments there is nothing but silence and the storm of the man's power, and then he speaks in perfect, clipped Ausonian, the foremost language of the Zodiac Court. "Stand." He is a Lord of the Zodiac Court, one of the eleven Kings of the World, second only to Emperor of Capricorn, and his voice is authority itself.

You and your Camp's master stand at once, you returning to attention. "Your Highness," your Camp's master says, his own Ausonian shaky and heavily accented. "We are honored by your presence. Was your flight comfortable?"

"It was quick, Dimitris" the Lord says. "That is all that matters." He turns to you, studying you with a critical eye. "This is the boy. Hart."

"It is him, your Highness" Dimitris says, "just as you requested. A purebred Knight, to rival even his father."

Not a flicker of emotion crosses your face at the mention of the man who sired you. You have never met William Hart, but his shadow has dogged your every step since you first became a Page. You had heard that the stud fee Dimitris had paid for you was worth two-dozen Knights at least, and if you failed, or even stumbled, you were a waste of an investment. So you had not failed, or even stumbled.

The Lord walks a slow circle around you. He reaches out a hand and prods at the tattoo on your left breast – three black, inverted chevrons just above your heart. The skin surrounding the lowest chevron, the one you earned with your Knighthood, is still red, having been completed only hours ago. "My daughter," the Lord says, "is sixteen at last. She has said the words and drank of my blood, and is now Heir in truth as well as name."

"It is wonderful to hear so, your Highness," Dimitris says, twisting his ring around and around his finger. "We have all heard great things, of course. Great things!"

"Many trials still remain ahead of her," the Lord says, as if he did not hear Dimitris at all. "She will need perfection beside her, if she is to properly carve her legacy." He taps you under the chin with two fingers, and you open your mouth wide so he may inspect your teeth.

"Young Hart was first amongst all our Squires," Dimitris assures him. "He has received training with rifles, pistols…any gun you care to name. Knives as well, and hand to hand, and he is an expert driver, and a capable pilot, and his stock, well – you know his stock, your Highness."

The Lord's eyes narrow ever so slightly. "I know his stock, Dimitris, else I would never suffer your ridiculous asking price. I am not merely paying for a thug with good genes."

"Of course, of course," Dimitris says, touching his knee to the ground in apology. "He has, of course, been trained just as intensely in the mental and chivalrous arts as he has the physical. He can recite all nine radiant chants, and has memorized Darwin's Bestiary. He knows his table manners, and his etiquette, and can identify all the Lords and Ladies of the Court, as well as their Heirs."

"Mm," the Lord says, sounding unimpressed. "If you speak truly, then perhaps you did not swindle me as much as I'd feared." He glances back at you. "Knight," he says, "I have agreed to purchase you so that you may protect my daughter, my Heir and only living blood. Do you know who I am?"

Of course you do. Dimitris had not lied – you do know your etiquette, and the radiant chants, and Darwin's Bestiary, and most importantly you know the names and faces of the twelve great Lords and Ladies and their Heirs. Even if you did not, Dimitris had been sure to remind you when he first entered the room. The man who stands before you is…

[] Lord Ryuga, of House Leo
Ruling the Kingdom of Nihon, House Leo is proud, powerful, and militaristic. Though historically strong allies of the Imperial House Capricorn, recently Leo has begun to chafe under Capricorn's restrictions, and seeks to expand its territory further south. Leo's heir, Sakura, is a canny political player and a notorious party girl.

[] Lord Marco, of House Aries
Ruling the Kingdom of Gallia, House Aries is prosperous but not outstanding house. It maintains favorable trade deals with other houses and a long tradition of power, but many believe its best days to be behind it. Aries' heir, Jacqueline, is shy and reserved, but a powerful witch who is rumored to dabble in unholy arts.

[] Lord Samuel, of House Pisces
Ruling the Kingdom of Allegain, House Pisces is still reeling from a devastating Civil War that put Lord Samuel's line in control. With strong, opportunistic houses to the West and South, House Pisces is in a precarious position, and voices amongst the Court whisper that Samuel may not be long in control. Pisces' Heir, Eliza, is friendly and outgoing, but seems out of place amongst the Zodiac Court.​

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