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parchment. He scratched through the third name on his list. Hernando would have been proud.
Whatever that light was, he |
had more important things to worry about. There was a council coming, a cephalomoot of the great octopi swordmasters to
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bring forth the great orb. It was a concentrated form of extraterrestrial water. It would be enough to drown the
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barren regions of the planet until the world's end.
Fantasy, Eduardo thought. Aged induced delirium. Still, he had news to share. |
The death of Hernando would leave a void in the rankings, and without judiciary oversight, scholastic war could erupt in
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council, and among their followers. Perhaps the orb legend would keep them occupied, for now. As it was, he would
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make all haste back to the Scriptarium. Hernando's name must be written in the book of death, his legend recorded
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, his murderer's name spat on. All else would be forgotten.
The light that floated above Leo's corpse hovered there for |
but a moment. Then it flew away, towards the halls of the dead. He had to hurry, for if it
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came to pass that Hernando's rank as Spatha Prima was not filled via tribunal appointment, opportunists and villains of all
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kinds would claim the title as their own, the Knights of Pigfarts chief among them. Their villainy was legendary among
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the denizens of Icosa. Eduardo would fight them all if he had to. They were likely forming plans to usurp
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the Seven Schools from their dominance of martial magisteria across the archipelago, and bring the reign of the Icosahedron over
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the archipelago, and from there...
Hernando would never have let that happen. If Eduardo had anything to say about it |
he would see their vaunted Decamachy thrown down, their brazen clerics hanged with the lepers -- yes, leprous octopi. And with
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that, it was decided. Why should we wait for them?
Why not bring the dawning of doom to the Knights? |
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