Trash: Interlude XII Bloodline Purging (Patreon)

Interlude XII

Bloodline Purging

(Pierre Bloom)

As the head butler for the local chapter of the Bloom clan, it was Pierre’s job to act as an intermediary. Normally this meant that it was his job to make sure that scheduling conflicts were avoided, and that when General Bloom needed time to meditate, as had been increasingly the case of late, that she be granted as much time as necessary. This was why, Pierre now found himself in somewhat of a bind.

“Right this way, your excellency,” Pierre began, gesturing for third Prince Fiammata to follow him through the Bloom estate to the secret meditation parlor that the General had frequented of late. This was the room at the north-eastern corner of the manor, the one with a view of trees to the east, or rich farmlands to the north. A room that offered both views, but that was not why the General chose this room to meditate in.

If asked, the General would tell others it was because of the view, which she would not be lying about. That said, her words could be easily misinterpreted, which was her intent. For while there were two grand bay windows that looked over the trees to the east, or the farmlands to the north. The biggest reason why the General came to this room for self-reflection was due to the larger than life twenty-foot-tall mural that depicted the back of a great general. From context and numerous interactions with the General, Pierre had deduced quite a lot about this famed mural. First, the person who was depicted as larger than life was none other than General DiVoratore, a fact that was confirmed by the giant stone sword that was plunged through the spine of a Death Eater who even in death seemed to be clawing their way towards the viewers of the painting. While the General himself just stood there stoically looking at the flying monsters and horde of undead monsters, some with glowing eyes that looked back in hunger at the general. If the work were to go up on auction, it would no doubt be touted as a genuine masterpiece of the famous battle that marked the end of General DiVoratore’s life. A battle that had almost been completely scrubbed from the annals of history, due to the fact that it was by all accounts considered a complete loss. Only vague mentions of it being the first battle that General Bloom encountered in her illustrious military career kept the moment alive. Well, those few records and this one larger than life portrait that the General had done herself. The fact that the General could paint was a surprise to many, for no one ever saw the General even paint. Yet, Pierre noticed the work, the attention to details that most artists would miss, along with the haunting look of the undead that many artists would not be able to capture as accurately as this portrait detailed. These factors along with the not-so-subtle marking of the artist who signed this work as ‘AB’ all but confirmed this to be the work of the General, Anastasia Bloom.

After having worked with the General for so long, he understood the importance of the larger-than-life mural that depicted what had to be the worst time of the General’s life. Even its placement on the wall directly between the two grand bay windows was performed on purpose. The mural stood as a solemn reminder of what it cost to keep the vibrant trees to the east, and the bountiful farmlands to the north alive and well.

Upon entering the meditation chamber, Pierre knocked twice, and then gently popped the door open. Looking inside to see the general perched on her meditation pillow that sat in the south-western corner of the room. The corner that sat diagonally across from the giant mural and gave her a clear view through either bay window.

A quick look at the General, and then at the windows, showed that a dark ominous winter storm was already brewing, ready to burst into life with relentless cold winter rains at any moment. A sign of what was to come. The general broke her stare away from the giant mural and glanced at Pierre, a look of light showing in her gaze, before she looked past Pierre and saw the real reason for his intrusion standing behind him. While the third prince did have two guards, they stood outside the room and remained on guard for anyone attempting to follow the duo into the meditation chamber. A sign of both respect and a matter of trying to provide the illusion of secrecy with what is about to be discussed at such an immediate time.

“Third Prince Fiammata, it is a pleasure to meet you, sorry if I don’t rise to meet you, but I am in the middle of my meditations,” the general stated plainly. Here in the meditation tower, it was clear who held the greater authority in the lands. While the third prince might hold a higher authority on paper, that paper was faded and written with the blood and sweat of the General. This was why, here in her room, where only Pierre was present, such a sleight was not only accepted, but had to be swallowed graciously.

“No problem at all," the third prince stammered out, briskly walking past Pierre into the room. Where he took three steps and then seemed to pause as he walked into a wall of authority that told him not to go any further. It was clear from a glance that the third prince looked at the giant and intricate mural on the wall, everyone did. In fact, Pierre was almost certain that this was why such a grand mural was placed on the north-eastern walls to begin with. The fact that the first thing anyone would do would be to stare at the mural and thereby miss the likely meditating General Bloom in the corner.

“I unfortunately have come to deliver a decree of the courts,” Fiammata stated, after managing to pull his eyes away from the giant mural and face the general who was still deep in her meditations. Looking at the general, it was clear that she was using her powers of divination, as her eyes were glowing in the faint sky-blue that she had when she needed to look into the future.

“So, you have found the signs of collusion between the Necrotins and the DiVoratores?” General Bloom asked, her insights into the matter at hand frighteningly accurate. At least that is what Pierre thought as he saw the third prince visibly shivering at the revelation, though he recovered quickly.

“Yes, and we are sorry to say that with this latest finding that even your protections are not enough to stay the orders from on high,” third prince Fiammata said. Hearing the words, General Bloom just nodded her head in understanding.

“Do not worry, the Bloom estates time of protecting and vouching for the DiVoratore family has come to an end. Our previous debts have been paid and we will not stand against any sanctions that might be imposed against the local DiVoratore branch,” General Bloom recounted her tone completely dismissive. Hearing the words, Pierre felt his legs buckle. For years the General had always been a secret supporter of the DiVoratore family, always covering up minor misdeeds due to an unspoken debt that the General swore she owed the family. Hearing the proclamation and dissolvement of ties, the third prince quickly came to the same conclusion that Pierre had.

“I take it, that your new apprentice is the person you have been looking for all this time?” Fiammata asked.

“Yes, and with her out of the way, any purging that might commence will not be interfered with,” General Bloom replied. As she spoke, Pierre could see the moment a look of shock crossed Fiammata’s eyes, as his eyes drew wide with disbelief.

“I take it then, that you are aware we intend to call for a Bloodline purge of all people wielding the DiVoratore name, and protections then?” Fiammata asked, his voice incredulous as he waited. Hearing the words and seeing the lingering look of concern on the third prince’s face, General Bloom decided to answer the hidden question resting in plain sight. The perceived golden viper that might cause some anger in the future.

“If you are referring to any DiVoratore members that might be there for fostering purposes, know that the Bloom estate does not hold any ties or allegiances to such persons, and will not seek retribution for any judgements rendered against said persons. Particularly when said persons have already been found to be in collusion with the undying,” General Bloom said, her face focused on the giant mural and in particular the giant back muscles that showed just how much weight that back was used to carrying and supporting all along.

For his part, the third prince just stood there dumbfounded for a moment, before shaking himself and visibly lightening at the news he had just received.

“Very well then, by your leave,” third prince Fiammata managed to get out, before quickly turning past Pierre, where he walked past his two guards who followed in lock step behind him, while he seemed ready to show himself the way out. Pierre paused for a moment, watching as the General’s eyes began glowing blue once more, a sign she was in deep meditation. Not wanting to inconvenience the General any longer, he bowed, and then grabbed the door handle to close the door behind him. But before he could move, the General spoke ominously in that way that she did while her words were laced with the power and intent of changing the future.

“I hope you have been practicing your sword forms,” the general declared. As she spoke, a bone tingling chill ran down Pierre’s spine, for he knew this was her speaking out of concern for changing and altering the future.

“I have,” Pierre admitted, though he knew he might have gone easier than he ultimately would have liked. That’s when the General gave a two word order that he knew he must obey.

“Practice harder,” were the final words the General spoke, before she was completely lost to her meditations. Realizing that the interaction was over, Pierre nodded and gently closed the door. Only feeling the full chilling weight of what he had just witnessed on him. He had witness the General casually accept a Bloodline purge, meaning that everyone with the name of DiVoratore would die, even Johny. But rather than focus on the bloodline purge of one of the seven great houses for the kingdom, the General was more concerned with Pierre practicing his martial stances. For a moment, he wondered why such an order was given, but then quickly realized that questioning the general was akin to questioning inevitability. You could do it, but you would look stupid for wasting your time questioning, and not doing as was ordered.

Realizing that something profound was coming, Pierre mentally prepared himself to do as the General ordered and to practice harder.

***

(Ankarah Carthwright)

Ankarah floated over the battlefield, her long boney legs no longer needed to guide her to her intended locations. Instead, she just willed herself to move and she did. Having joined the gathered skeletal armies of the dead, Ankarah could feel waves of power, and something deeper, an emotion that she had not experienced since the beginning of her unlife, that feeling she later determined was the anticipation of battle.

“Forward!” Bralthrax, second eldest of Mendel called out. His voice powered by the unmistakable authority granted to him by his master. Even though Ankarah was not of the same lineage, that level of power was unmistakable and almost enough for Ankarah to march on her own.

Not wanting to seem weaker than the others, or to have her own squad of troops fall under the sway of Bralthrax the second, Ankarah followed suit and provided orders for her own troops. “Forward!”

Then to echo Bralthrax and Ankarah’s commands, the other lesser generals also called out, mirroring the commands to move out to conquer yet more lands in the name of their masters. And like that, Ankarah’s first taste of command settled into her bones, and it was intoxicating. Especially as the minor undead skeletons that made up the majority of the armies provided began trampling everything underfoot, as they began their relentless march south.